Bloom
by Veluphora
Summary: **spoiler alert** Akito and Shigure's first time making love - the very first, not just together. One-shot. Some French included.


Disclaimer: Natsuki Takaya owns all~  


VvVvV

It was in the middle of a cold December night, just before Akito's fifteenth birthday – a few months after Shigure had begun yet another semester of college…when he crept into her room, sliding a bit awkwardly – due to his gangly frame – through her open window.

Shigure hadn't planned on it and neither had she. He'd come for romance, certainly – but not specifically that kind. That wasn't to say he didn't want it, though. On the contrary, he had taken great care not to pressure her, wanting her to be ready and the time to be right – she would come to the decision when it was, he thought. Though she had already told him – several times – that she _was_ ready, she had said it in the heat of the moment and because she had been angry with him. He wanted it to be because she loved him, not because he had made her upset. So he had declined, making her grow still angrier with him.

But now, he made his way to her futon, and lifted a hand to gently shake her awake. Before his hand touched her, however, he heard,

"You're early." Akito's voice was muffled by her pillow. He tittered quietly.

"You're awake," he shot back, smiling. "And in a good mood, I hope?"

She didn't answer, only gave a soft grunt as she turned over to face him. Her dark eyes reflected the crescent moon of the light pouring in from outside, which Shigure noted with pleasure.

He kissed her, slowly and sweetly at first. She kissed him back, her eyelids wavering between dreams, reluctant to leave either of them. This was why she preferred their romantic interludes to be during the day – because she felt more in control of the situation when she was well rested – and why Shigure preferred their trysts to be at night…because then (on the brink of sleep) she was in a much more loving temperament.

And love was the heart of the matter – all that was required. Laws, in many cases superficial, had long been disregarded for love – and, at any rate, both of them felt love to be eternal and unconditional.

If they were both willing, neither of them considered the act rape – only making love, as it was.

They'd been prepared for such an act for a long time, Shigure in particular. He had protection (not that Akito really cared about it, it was Shigure who wanted her to be safe) and ready-made excuses that Akito not be disturbed for extended periods of time, several of which he had told a certain trustworthy maid to utilize if she ever heard strange noises coming from Akito's room (excepting a scream or shout for help, of course).

And strange noises there certainly were, often enough that Shigure had to keep coming up with new or elaborated upon excuses – although it really was only a few people who bothered at all about the noise, and even then only because they had been sleeping.

So the two had become used to suppression, used to keeping their impulses under volume-control (although sometimes they got so caught up in the moment that they forgot they weren't the only ones in the house). After all, Shigure had been restraining himself from it for years, while Akito took advantage of the (barely) curbed passion by telling Shigure things she might not have otherwise told him, had she felt uninhibited.

"'_Deflower_.' I heard that term today at school," revealed Akito sleepily this time around, rubbing her eyes in a kind of feeble, fluttering motion.

"I would never phrase it that way," replied Shigure, frowning slightly. "Rather, you'd be _en_ _fleur_. In bloom, _mon amour_."

Akito scowled. "You're still taking French." But she secretly liked it when he spoke another language – most of the time, although Japanese would always be her preferred tongue of communication.

Shigure nodded and laughed. "_Oui oui, mademoiselle._"

Akito eyed him vicariously. "_Oui oui_," she repeated, her voice nearly inaudible.

His eyes were all that moved, but they moved knowingly, she thought. "_C'est la vie_," he whispered, bending over her, his hands pressed hard onto the wooden floor as he kissed her again. "_Vous êtes une belle créature. Je suis désole pour tous les pèches que j'ai commis contre vous_. _Je t'aime_."

He stopped for an instant, taking time out to gaze tenderly into his lover's eyes. She was beautiful – she was always beautiful, not that he would ever (directly) tell her that. She held his stare, but he felt her wrists tremble beneath his weight – she liked being pinned down, but she was god, _his_ god – his goddess. She would never allow herself to admit that, however vulnerable she might have seemed.

This evident, forced calm maddened him, caused his caresses to become rawer, rougher – his kisses wildly instinctual against the lips of a young woman who loved him but who would not confirm the fact.

It was natural, being with her. And yet, though he knew it was also natural for her, being with him…outside of this room, alongside anyone of consequence –

He was inferior.

The dog of the Zodiac. That's all he was. There was only one person beneath him in the Zodiac lineup – Kagura. Kyo too, but he wasn't technically included.

But here he was, kissing their god impulsively on the floor of her room – about to make love to her.

It angered him to be so misrepresented. Everyone thought he was harmless – a fool and perhaps a pervert, but completely harmless in terms of actual danger.

Everyone, that was, except Akito and Hatori. They knew the truth – and Shigure often suspected that Kureno knew, too.

He looked at her, captivated by the sight of her strikingly tired features. She was exquisite in every detail – however life hacked away at her she still walked away from it looking as perfect as ever. He could tell the day had exhausted her – but she was appealingly exhausted.

It made him hungry for her, for the energy that she had left – he would savor the remaining drops while lamenting the wasted ones.

This was not about him, or her. This was about them – together. Her happiness meant more to him than his own selfish desires.

His gaze traveled down her belly, then lingered on the next patch of skin, waiting uncertainly for permission.

She nodded once, then closed her eyes as he gradually disrobed her, somehow also taking off his clothes in the process.

He sighed, blissful as he took in her full figure. He'd been afraid she'd regard him as some sort of molester if he tried to undress her before – a Humbert to a Lolita, though his age was well within normal limits in regard to her own.

Although perhaps they both should have been older for this next bit.

She unfolded her legs, and lied there quite still until he moved nearer, closing the gap between them with hot, invasive kisses and slick, sweating skin.

"Sh…Shigure!" she gasped, suddenly fearful. To be honest, so was he – but his fervent longing greatly overrode his sense of oncoming terror.

However, at her gasp, he paused. "Akito?" he questioned, tilting his head to one side.

Her shaded eyes met his in the darkness, gentle and petrified. "Don't worry," he told her, grasping her hand for support. "I love you, Akito – and only you." He smiled warmly at her. "That is the definite truth…remember?"

Of course she remembered. Transfixed, she said the same and nodded again, but this time left her eyes open as he reached for her.

Her hip scraped against his. His hand explored her dry and ended up wet. She licked his ear thoughtlessly, her own hands gracing the bare hollow of his back. He recoiled a little, taken aback by the outgoing action. Then he gave a short bark, almost a laugh, as he continued with renewed vigor.

It hurt a little, but not as much as either of them had been expecting – and with all of the overwhelming joy, it really wasn't that noticeable.

They were together. Completely together. One entity – one soul.

_Forever._

Harmony, heaven. There was no doubt of the latter now.

Here…it existed.

It was a miracle. Genuine magic.

In reality it took a long time, though for them it felt like it went by so fast. But by the time they pulled their clothes back on and Shigure snuck out through the window, light from the morning sun streamed in through the glass.

"_Je t'aime_," whispered Akito, to herself after he had gone. She got up a while after Shigure had left – she'd sat there for several moments, in pure silence, thinking.

When she caught sight of her futon, she immediately drew back.

It must have been a fantasy.

There, on the peach-colored sheets, was a dark crimson stain, a stain which had spread in the shape of a familiar flower…

A camellia.

VvVvV

So…tell me what you think! I'd love to know! Oh, and I know Akito completes her schooling by correspondence – she just visits the school in this story.


End file.
